Homestay

For those of you who have wondering, a homestay is when I go stay with a national family and stay in their home for a period of time.  For three days/nights I had the opportunity to do a homestay with a sweet, C-ian family in this city.  As much as I could, I tried to live life like them.  I went to school and had a few hours in the afternoon before loading a bus and heading across town.  The neighborhood in which this family lives is an interesting one.  It is quite different than where I had been living for the past three months in this city.  People were out more, there were little food stands, and everything was a bit more abuzz.

My homestay family

The first night, the family went to their Gathering of Believers.  I sat with the women on the left side while the men sat on the right side.  We sang songs in Bangla (didn’t know them, but did recognize some of the words).  We read Scripture and listened to the Word being preached.  As is in most Gatherings here, the women cover their head, so I did likewise during “conversing with the Father” and Scripture Reading.  It was interesting to see how another congregation meets and gathers together.  Julie and I were introduced and called upon to say something about ourselves.  We didn’t see that one coming, and it was a bit intimidating to find all the Bangla words I needed on the spot.  However, and this is a testament to the Father’s grace, Julie and I were able to string together several sentences about how much we enjoy this country and what our future plans are.

After church, I must admit I was quite hungry.  I knew Bengalis ate late, but I don’t thing I realized how late.  I enjoyed looking through family photos while dinner was being prepared…they wouldn’t let me help. L  It was a good thing I was distracted by the family pictures, because dinner didn’t happen until 9:00.  Funny thing was that out of the three nights I was there, this is the earliest dinner was.  The father of the family (who I called Dada—meaning older brother) made me laugh the next day.  He came home from work about 6 and told his wife that he was hungry and hoped dinner wouldn’t be long.  Then, he turned to me and said he thought we could go meet some of his friends in the community.  He told me he thought it would be fun, but also there were prospects of food.  Now, that is my type of thinking!  Haha!!

The two other evenings, the Dada introduced me to several people living in his part of town.  Oddly enough, this part of town is mainly C-ian and he introduced me to bishops, people in C-ian NGOs, and even an old principal/teacher of my language school.  Dada was a real extrovert!  He could talk and talk.  However, he was also good to let me talk and use my Bangla with the new people I was meeting.  It was really nice to sit on the couch and actually understand most of the language that was being said around me.  Plus, Dada was right—the food prospects were good both nights!  It helped him, but it really, really helped me.

I have come to realize in my time here that Bengalis really don’t like gobs of variety in their diet.  They are happy eating bhat (rice), dal (lentals), mach (fish), murgi monsho (chicken), and sobji (vegetables, both cooked and raw) at every meal, both lunch and dinner.  I do value variety, but the mother of the family (who I called Didi—meaning older sister) was a superb cook and everything tasted wonderful.  The Father blessed me when He put me with this family for many reasons, one of which being they don’t particularly like spicy food either!  It was delightful each evening to share a meal with them.  Oh, and in case you are wondering, they didn’t force me to eat more than I wanted to eat either, which was very nice of them considering often in this culture they sometimes force an unreal amount of food in you.

Dinner at their home

In the mornings, I would have amazing ruti (bread).  I am a self-proclaimed carb-oholic, and I love bread of any kind.  However, I must say this bread was fantastic! It is similar to a tortilla, but served warm and tastes a bit similar to a pancake. I ate it with a fried egg.   On my last morning there, I got up early to watch Didi make it.  Maybe I will be able to replicate in on my own.  Here is the process:

Prior to this step, she started by boiling water on the stove and adding salt and flour (no measurments required...).  Then, she stirred it...

...and kneeded it...

...and rolled it into a perfect circle...

...and cooked it over the burner on a dry cooking pan (probably made especially for ruti).  Yummy!

Afternoons in this family were fairly laid back.  I know that I can’t base what an entire culture does on one family’s practices, I can’t make assumptions about the rest of the culture, but Julie has a similar experience with her host family, so this might be valid. Afternoons here are pretty quiet. People took naps!!, read, did housework, but mainly don’t interact with one another. When it is time to eat dinner, everyone came together and ate and then visited, but afternoon time is on your own time.  It was nice and relaxing.  Naps are a lost art sometimes in America, and since I really enjoy them, it is nice to be in a culture that values them even more than I do.

I was so very blessed to stay with this family.  I got to meet some really great people, practice my language, and see how the Father is working through this family to affect the lives others in this city.  It was such an amazing opportunity and I am so thankful to the Father for it.

My new sister!